Conversations
by CaffieneKitty
Summary: Snippets of unconnected conversations, mostly between Sam and Dean, mostly prepilot. The 4th one is... bizarre. So are the 8th, 9th and 11th. 12th has Spoilers for 4.04 All GEN.
1. Anchors

**A/N:** These are little unconnected random conversations that keep pestering me, but don't seem to come with a story attached. All dialog. There will be many, many ellipses. I'll be adding new ones every so often, but nowhere near a regular or frequent schedule. Random discussions, some funny, some not, in all likelihood. Content will vary widely, I will change the rating if the language or content warrants. These snippets won't be happening in any kind of chronological order, but I'll try to put in a timeframe for each. Hopefully, they'll be worth the pixels. Please review.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. It owns me. God, does it ever own me.

_Conversations_

_by CaffieneKitty_

**Anchors**

_Timeframe: _

The wee hours of a morning during Sam's first year at Stanford.

"Sam? What's up?"

"Dean, uh, hi."

"It's 4AM where I am, little bro. You forget you're on the West Coast now?"

"Actually, I didn't think you'd answer."

"Well, I did. So what's up?"

"Nothing."

"You called me at 4 AM Eastern, which is 1 AM Pacific because nothing is up and you didn't think I'd answer?"

"This was a mistake."

"No, no, hold on, Sam."

"...Yeah?"

"...How's, you know, things?"

"Heh. Pretty good. I'm keeping up in all my classes, and... yeah. Things are good."

"So, who's the girl?"

"Who said there was a girl?"

"Dude. I'm your brother. I taught you to talk. I know what you're not saying."

"...Jessica."

"Huh. She a bookworm like you?"

"Yeah, sort of. It's Stanford. You're either a bookworm or you're barfing up a lung in the Quad."

"So? Is she hot?"

"Dean-"

"Yeah, yeah. You know I had to ask."

"... She's... indescribable."

"Two heads, flippers, seaweed for hair-"

"Dean."

"All right, all right... You're serious about this girl, hunh Sam?"

"...yeah. We, uh. I'm moving in with her."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. Heh. That's kind of why I called."

"You're calling me to help you _move_?"

"Ha! No! No. I was actually calling because I bought a... well... a bookshelf."

"... Um. Okay?"

"It's furniture. I own _furniture_, Dean. It's so weird."

"Weird is definitely one of the words coming to my mind right now. Most of the rest have four letters and you're going to start hearing them if you don't start making some sense, Sam."

"I got it at a garage sale. It's short, and it's heavy. Made out of actual wood under the crappy paint, I think. Jess and I took it to her place in her hatchback."

"Still waiting for sense here, Sam."

"I've never owned anything bigger than I can carry in a duffel-bag, or stick in the trunk of the Impala. It's... it's like living in student res was just another hotel, only louder. I never really totally unpacked, just out of habit. Now I'm moving into a house, and I own furniture. A bookshelf! It's just this big solid _thing_, and I _own_ it. It's like the world bends around it."

"You sure you aren't one of the 'puking your brains out' students?"

"Ha... No... I guess, I just called because if I tried to describe this to any of the people here, they wouldn't understand."

"I hate to say it Sam, but I don't know If I understand either."

"...It's something solid. Real. Something that I have to make arrangements to move around with. It's something too big to pick up, sling over my shoulder and leave with in under five minutes. And it's all mine. ...You still there, Dean?"

"... Yeah... I'm here... Sounds like a pain in the ass."

"It is. And I like that. That's why it's so weird."

"Hunh... sorry Sammy, I guess I still don't get it. I don't really get attached to things."

"Bull. I've watched you clean the guns for years."

"Hey, a gun isn't a thing, it's a tool."

"And what about the car?"

"What, have you developed a death wish since you got to Stanford?"

"Jackass."

"Dork."

"Whatever. Uh... You probably want to get back to sleep."

"Naw, I'm good. Me and Dad have been pulling a lot of all-nighters on this gig."

"He's not there, is he?"

"... Naw. His turn to babysit the snollygoster."

"Dean, uh..."

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I won't tell him you called."

"Okay. Thanks. Really though, I should go. I have class and stuff in the morning."

"Yeah, and you better start getting your beauty sleep if you wanna hang onto this girl of yours. Does she know that you snore?"

"I do not snore."

"Do too. Sounds like a snake getting sucked into a water pump."

"Bite me."

"Heh, yeah, whatever. Go. Sleep. But... uh... if that bookshelf of yours starts radiating evil, or freaky symbols show up on it out of the blue, you let me know. I'll come out there and help you torch the sucker."

"Ha. Right. G'night Dean."

Click

"'Night Sammy."


	2. Word Problems

**A/N: **There was a lot more to this one, I think, but my notes have disappeared, (which annoys me,) and I'm going from my terrible memory. Contains grievous errors in American roadway geography, I'm sure, since I've never driven a vehicle in the US. Particular apologies to anyone in Phoenix or Tulsa, two lovely cities I've never been to. Also, apologies to math teachers everywhere.

- - -

_Conversations_

_by CaffieneKitty_

_-_

**Word Problems**

- - -

_Timeframe: _

Dean (14) helps Sam (9) with his math, sort of.

-

"Dean, can you help me with this question? It's about cars."

"Okay, shoot."

"'If Car A leaves Phoenix, Arizona traveling fifty-five miles an hour and Car B leaves Tulsa, Oklahoma traveling thirty-five miles an hour, how far from which city will they cross paths?'"

"Depends. What route are they taking?"

"It doesn't say."

"Well, if they aren't traveling the same route they won't cross paths at all."

"I think it wants you to assume they're on the same road."

"Which one though? 'Coz if the guy coming from Phoenix is taking the I-17 to connect with the I-40 at Flagstaff, he's gonna hit the Crawl going through Glendale. No way he'd get through that at fifty-five. Twenty-five maybe."

"Buh-"

"He'd be better to take 60, switch to the 54 at Baker Lake and connect up with the I-40 at that park just past Albuquerque. What time are these bozos driving around, anyway?"

"Uh, it doesn't say."

"Well, now, see, that's important, 'coz if it's 5:30 p.m. in Oklahoma, the guy coming out of Tulsa has the yuppie rush he'll get stuck in no matter what road they're on."

"I-"

"The guy in Phoenix, he's in a different time zone, the rush out of Phoenix won't start for another hour and a half, so he can get clear before the lemming race. But if it's 7AM, the traffic's pretty much all going into town, so it's clear sailing for both of them. They can go maybe 60 if they watch it."

"But they aren't going sixty! It says one's going fifty-five and one's going thirty-five."

"Thirty-five? Which idiot's going thirty-five?"

"The guy in Oklahoma."

"On a highway? What's he driving, a tractor?"

"Doesn't say. Just says car B."

"Crappy-ass car. Unless he's on one of the back roads."

"It doesn't-"

"-doesn't say, yeah, yeah. Oh! Hey, maybe he's on one of those utility roads that goes through pastureland, and he's going so slow 'coz nothing's chasing him and he's gotta watch for cows and cattle grates. Probably got a car with no shocks."

"Uh... Cows?"

"So we just gotta figure out what routes go between Tulsa and Phoenix that start out going through pasture in Oklahoma, and we'll know how tough getting out of Phoenix is gonna to be for the first guy."

"I don't think that's what the question's asking, Dean."

"You sure about that? Sounds like it wants to know when they cross paths and unless you know all that stuff, there's no way to tell."

"Oh, never mind! I'll figure it out myself!"

"Okay then, probably better that way."

"...You did that on purpose."

"Did what?"

"All the stuff about routes and traffic and cattle grates. You weren't even trying to help me! You were just trying to make me give up on asking you!"

"You aren't going to learn anything if I give you the answers, Sam, you have to figure things out on your own. Or your brain's always gonna be the size of a peanut."

"My brain's not the size of a peanut!"

"You sure? I think I can hear it shriveling up from here. It wants some math, go feed it."

- - -


	3. Mortality

**A/N: **This one isn't a funny one, really. You may need your emergency insulin injectors handy though, because it's a bit sugary. Kid Winchesters discussing grim-ish things. It's also really, really short. The next one will be funnier, and longer, pretty much guaranteed. 

- - -

_Conversations  
by CaffieneKitty_

-

**Mortality**

- - -

_Timeframe:_  
Late at night, several months after the flashback sequence in _Something Wicked_.

-

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you and Dad salt 'n' burn my corpse?"

"_What!_"

"You know, when I die, will you and Dad-" 

"Shut up! You aren't gonna die, so just shut up!"

"But everybody dies, Dean. Mom died an' Hayden's sister died an' Jeremiah died an'-"

"Just... Just shut up Sammy. Go to sleep."

"But Deeeean, it's 'mportant! If I die and no one salt 'n' burns my corpse, maybe I'll turn into a mean ghost that hurts people. I don't wanna hurt people!"

"Okay. First, you're not gonna die. Second, you wouldn't be mean and hurt people, 'coz you don't. Worst you'd do is annoy them to death. Third, you are _not_ going to _die_."

"You already said that one." 

"I know, I'm sayin' it again so it sinks into your pointy little head. Fourth, even if you..."

"Even if I what, Dean?"

"Nothin'. You are not gonna die. You're not gonna turn into a ghost and you're not gonna be mean and hurt people. You're just a kid."

"But Jeremiah was just a kid too. He was my age when he died an' he turned into a mean ghost. He killed people, even. You an' Dad said so. That's why Dad had to salt ' n' burn his corpse."

"Is that what this is about? Look, Sam, Jeremiah was different. There's no way what happened to him'll ever happen to you."

"Why? What happened to him?"

"...Some people hurt him real bad before he died. They killed him. His ghost wanted to hurt people back 'coz of it."

"But what if people hurt me before I die? What if-"

"That's never gonna happen, Sammy. Not with me and Dad around."

"But what if Dad's not around, what if he's out hunting?"

"I'll be here."

"But what if you aren't around either?"

"...I'll always be around. I promise."

"Always?"

"Yeah, always. Go to sleep, Sammy."

"'kay. G'nite Dean."

- - -


	4. Coping with the Weird

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em.

**A/N: **This conversation is _very_ different.This is bordering on crack, and seriously considering emigrating. I blame the inception of this particular surreal wackiness on an unexpected 16 hour shift at work and a couple odd things that happened in RPGs. Since then, it's been choking my brain for over a month and a half. It's started leaking into other stories, so I'm posting it to get it out of my head. I'm declaring this conversation to be happening in a _dream_, making it all metaphorical and meaningful. Yeah, sure. Really though, it's complete nonsense. But possibly funny. Anyway, hope it's at least somewhat entertaining... Please review and let me know what you think!

- - -

_Conversations_

_by CaffieneKitty_

_-_

**Coping with the Weird**

- - -

_Timeframe: _

This conversation is taking place in a _non-prophetic dream_ one of them is having at some point in time after

the episode "Nightmare". Whose dream it is, I leave as an exercise for the readers...

-

"Sam, we've already been in this room, right? Sam?"

"Yeff?"

"Where'd you go? And what the hell are you eating?"

"Cheese."

"We're in the middle of a hunt and you stop to eat?"

"I was hungry."

"You're always hungry. Of all things to bring along on a hunt, why cheese? Did you think the place was haunted by giant undead mice?"

"I didn't bring the cheese with me."

"...You just said you were eating cheese, if you didn't bring it with you... Where did you get the cheese, Sam?"

"I found it, in the kitchen."

"You _what_?"

"Well, I think it was the kitchen. There were knives."

"Sam..."

"It was good cheese."

"You stopped in the middle of a haunted house to eat cheese you found _lying around_? Please tell me you're joking."

"Well, no. It looked fine, I was hungry, so I ate the cheese."

"..."

"You can stop pointing the flashlight in my eyes anytime, Dean."

"No, I'm going to keep pointing it at you until it starts shining out your ears, because you've obviously lost your friggin' mind! You did the research, Sam, you _know_ no one's lived in this house for years. There's no power to the building, no refrigeration, and there's just... _cheese_, sitting there, so you _eat_ it?"

"It just... looked like really good cheese."

"And that didn't seem weird at all to you?"

"Actually, no. It didn't... I guess that is kind of weird. I mean weird that it didn't seem weird."

"Did your brain finally suffocate under all that hair?"

"Bite me."

"Better you than that cheese. It was probably evil cheese."

"I've never heard of evil cheese."

"Yeah and I've never heard of my little brother stopping in the middle of a friggin' job to eat stuff he found lying around a haunted house!"

"Theoretically haunted."

"Whatever. I thought you gave up sticking random objects in your mouth when you finished teething. Let's keep moving. We've already been in this room, haven't we?"

"Hm. No, no mark on the door."

"You sure? I know we've been in this room before. Between nibbles, Mickey, I hope you remembered to keep marking doors we've gone through."

"There was a room that was a lot like this, but it had that case of baseball trophies. And the square-dance music."

"Oh... right, yeah. I was trying to block that part out of my memory."

"I wouldn't forget to mark the door, Dean."

"You forgot not to eat things you find in a haunted house, who knows what else you might have forgot."

"You know the place probably isn't haunted or every ghost in here would be on us with all the racket you're making about the cheese. Maybe we should make more noise, something might show us where the way out is."

"I know where the way out is, Sam."

"Yeah? So we've been wandering around for the past several hours for, what? Fun?"

"I swear something keeps moving the doors around- Stop changing the subject. I can't believe you stopped in the middle of a job to eat cheese. Not even cheese you brought with you, completely unknown cheese."

"There's nothing wrong with eating cheese, Dean, lots of normal people all over the world eat cheese every day."

"Not cheese they find while they're wandering around in a creepy abandoned house!"

"The rest of the world isn't wandering around in a creepy abandoned house, just us."

"Us and whatever's keeping us in here, which is probably where the cheese came from. Definitely evil cheese. You should puke."

"What?"

"If it's not evil, then it's toxic, poisoned or something. Throw up. Right now. Get it out of your system."

"...Can't, sorry. I feel fine, you're over-reacting. It's just cheese. And you don't know if it was bad or not, you didn't have any."

"You didn't give me a chance to have any."

"Would you have eaten it if I had?"

"Of course not! I know enough not to stop in the middle of a job to eat _cheese_! A randomly occuring dairy product just sitting around in the middle of an abandoned house. Poisoned, toxic, evil freaky cheese."

"Didn't taste bad. It was really nice cheese, actually. I like cheese."

"...You aren't possessed by that cartoon guy with the cheese fetish and the bunny-sucking machine, are you?"

"What?"

"It was on TV a couple hotels back. The were-rabbit guy."

"Wallace? Does that make you Gromit?"

"Shut up. Never mind."

"Seriously, Dean, you're over-reacting. It was just cheese."

"I swear, Sam, if you get botulism or something from eating frigging cheese you found on a hunt I am _so_ gonna kick your ass into next week. The second you feel sick or woozy or anything, you let me know. Keep trying to puke."

"Will you get off it?"

"No! We've been doing this crap our whole lives, I can't believe- Never mind, just follow me and try not to eat anything else you find. Which way?"

"Left."

"You sure? I thought we just came that way."

"We came from the right, the room with the fountains."

"Yeah, okay, left it is."

"... uh, Dean?"

"What, did you find some evil crackers to go with your evil cheese?"

"I feel kinda funny."

"Of course you feel funny, you ate the cheese. Are you having double vision? Trouble breathing?"

"No. I mean really funny. Like my skin's not... right."

"Whadda ya mean your skin's not right?"

"Like it's too tight, and flaky."

"...You're trying to drive me crazy aren't you."

"No, my skin really feels weird."

"This is all payback for... something. You're jerking my chain, in the middle of a _job_, for some kind of extended, complex practical joke."

"No, I'm not."

"Well if you aren't, then why in hell are you choosing _now_ to complain about your frigging skin problems?"

"Uh, Dean?"

"You use some kinda aloe-vera and wheatgerm skin cream crap anyway, don't you?"

"Dean?"

"What?"

"Uh. I think I have scales."

"...Sam-"

"No, really. Look. It's kind of hard to see in the dark, but... just shine the flashlight over here a second."

"...I'll be damned. Scales. Hunh."

"Hunh? That's it? I have scales, Dean!"

"At least it's not botulism. Scales. Evil cheese'll do that to you, I guess."

"You think this is from the cheese?"

"Probably. You sure you still can't puke it up?"

"I tried. You watched."

"I don't have scales, and I didn't eat the cheese, you have scales, you ate the cheese. Effect, cause."

"Why would cheese give me scales?"

"Beats all hell out of me. Keep going. Right or left now?"

"Uh. Right."

"Where did you find a kitchen anyway, I never saw a kitchen."

"It was off the last room."

"You need to stop wandering off on your own, Sam. Whoever's keeping us trapped in here would probably love a chance to keep us apart."

"But it didn't... Now this is definitely a room we haven't been in before."

"Yeah. That's kind of disturbing."

"Which, the butterflies pinned to all the walls, or the massive display shelf of ceramic puppies?"

"The butterflies. I totally missed the puppies. Mark the door and let's keep going. Maybe if we're fast enough the doors won't have time to-"

"Uh... Dean?"

"What now?"

"Wook ap mai pung."

"Dude, don't stick your tounge out at me. What are you, five?"

"No, really, look at it."

"... That's... gross."

"The tip's splitting in two, isn't it?"

"Lemee see again."

"Ah pink ahm purming impoo a wivurb."

"What?"

"I said I think I'm turning into a lizard."

"...What?"

"Scales, the tongue, and I'm feeling kind of lizardy..."

"What the- How the hell would you know what lizards feel like?"

"I can't explain it, really. Like I want to curl up on a hot rock and eat bugs."

"...You're not going to start eating bugs now are you?"

"No. But you can see the scales and the tongue, right?

"Yeah... What was in that cheese, LSD?"

"Hallucinogenic cheese that _I_ ate wouldn't make _you _see things. Or maybe _you _actually ate the cheese, and you're hallucinating that _I _ate the cheese and am turning into a lizard."

"...Don't screw with my head, Sam. And for God's sake, stop grinning. The ends of your tongue are sticking out."

"Ssorry."

"We've gotta find whatever's screwing around with us and take it out. You take point."

"Why?"

"Because I want to keep an eye on you in case anything else weird happens to you. And so I can stop you if you decide to go munching on other mystery food items you find."

"It doesn't make any sense, Dean. If I was going to turn into anything, it should be a cow, not a lizard. Cheese doesn't come from lizards."

"Maybe that cheese did."

"How? Lizards don't give milk."

"Maybe it's made of some kind of lizard secretions, then."

"Eugh."

"Sure you still can't puke?"

"Ugh. No. I wish. Hey, watch where you're walking!"

"What? Did you see something? Or _did_ you puke?"

"No, you just sstepped on my... uhhh..."

"What, Sam?"

"...Uh. My tail."

"...You have _got_ to be kidding me. Turn around... You do not have a tail, dumbass."

"But I had the distinct feeling that-"

"How the hell would you know what having your tail stepped on feels like, Sam? You've never had a tail to _get _stepped on!"

"It felt like you sstepped on my tail. That'ss all I know."

"...say that again."

"Ssay what?"

"Ha! You're hissing!"

"I am not hissss- Oh, great. It'ss thiss sstupid tongue, it- Are you _laughing_ at me?"

"No, no, of course not, Sam."

"Why is this not bugging you? I have scales, a ssspli- split tongue, and a hallucinatory tail!"

"...I'm kinda relieved actually. If the worst this is going to do is make you turn into a lizard, then it's not that bad."

"Not that bad! What part of me turning into a lizard is 'not that bad'?"

"You're not sick, or poisoned, and you're still the same person."

"But I'm not! I'm turning into a lizard!

"Pft. You're just a little different. A bit weirder than usual, but you're still _you_. It could be a lot worse."

"Sso, what do we do?"

"We find who or whatever is running this place and stop 'em, and you'll probably go back to the way you were."

"Probably?"

"Yeah, probably. It's gotta be a spell of some kind, right? Same as the house that never ends."

"And what if it doessn't work, Dean? What if I'm a lizard the resst of my life?"

"Then we get you a rock, a sunlamp and turn the back seat of the Impala into a big-ass terrarium."

"Hey! That'ss not funny!"

"You ate the evil cheese, Sammy. You gotta expect consequences."

- - -

(...and then he woke up, the end, heh. I did warn you at the start it was a dream. Review if you wanna.)


	5. Desperate Measures

**Disclaimer: **See previous

**A/N:** Not sure where exactly this came from, but it's really short and drabbley.

- - -

_Conversations_

_by CaffieneKitty_

_-_

**Desperate Measures**

- - -

_Timeframe: _

Wee hours of the morning, some gas station in the middle of nowhere,

sometime while they're on the road during the series.

-

"All right, we're all good, let's go."

"But what are we doing about the gas, Dean? You said that the guy wouldn't take credit cards."

"It's dealt with, let's go."

"We're not driving off without paying, Dean"

"Of course not, more hassle than it's worth. He'd report the plates."

"So...?"

"I said it's dealt with. I paid, let's go."

"How?"

"What?"

"How did you pay? Neither of us have any cash, the guy wouldn't take a card... You didn't _rob_ the place, did you?"

"No! No. Well not really."

"Dean..."

"I paid! In change. Coins."

"Where the hell were you keeping twenty-five bucks worth of change?"

"Can we go now, or do I have to haul your ass out of the driver's seat? Coz I will, and you know it."

"Alright, alright, but I want to..."

"What?"

"You paid in change?"

"Yeah that's what I said. Nothing wrong with change."

"Oh god. Tell me you didn't..."

"Didn't what, Sam?"

"You did! You broke into a vending machine."

"I wouldn't've had to if the guy took credit cards! What kind of gas station doesn't take credit cards?"

"No wonder you took so long."

"Can we leave now?"

"Wait, aren't they all on camera?"

"Sam..."

"The vending machines are all out front. The guy would've seen you on the security camera, and I didn't see you either..."

"Not _all_ the vending machines are out front, Sherlock."

"... You stole the money from the gas station washroom _condom machine_?"

"Yeah, so? I left it open. It's like... a public service."

"Your altruism is commendable."

"Your sarcasm is annoying. Now can we _go_ before the gas jockey decides to give the washroom its monthly cleaning?"

- - -

(that's all)


	6. The Nature of Truth as Applied to Summer

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. pout

_Conversations_

by CaffieneKitty

**The Nature of Truth as Applied to Summer Vacation**

-

_Timeframe:_

An early September evening. Sam is 7, Dean is 11.

-

"Dean?"

"What?"

"What was that thing called?"

"What thing?"

"That thing last month, the one that made you fall in the swamp and stole your pants?"

"Yeesh. Why d'you hafta remember stuff like that?"

"'Cause it was funny. C'mon, Dean, what was it called?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Aw, Deeeean."

"All right, all right. It was a Batsolowanagwes."

"Bat solo wanna gooeys?"

"Yeah."

"How's it spelled?"

"I dunno, Dad's probably got it written in his journal, you can ask him when he gets back."

"But Dean, that won't be till tomorrow or friday, and I need to know tonight!"

"Well, it's probably spelled like it sounds, Sam, B-A-T-S-... uh. Hang on. Why do you want to know how to spell it?"

"'Cause Miss Pickett says spelling counts."

"What? Who's Miss Pickett and why are you telling her about things we hunt?"

"She's my new teacher, I'm supposed to write about what I did on my summer vacation, and it's gotta be good, 'coz we get to read them out loud in class too."

"Uh, Sammy..."

"I'm almost done, I just wanna make sure I got the spelling right."

"I don't think your teacher would know how to spell it anyways, but-"

"She wouldn't? Wow."

"Sam, you can't write about the stuff we do and hand it to a teacher."

"Why not?"

"'Coz she'll think you're crazy!"

"But it's true!"

"Yeah, well, our truth is other people's crazy. You can't tell your teacher about the thing in the swamp."

"Aw, you just don't want anyone to know a swamp monster stole your pants."

"No, I don't wanna get called down to the office 'cause a second grade teacher thinks my little brother is a fruitcake. She'd try and call Dad too, and then we'd have to move again."

"Oh... Okay, I'll leave out the thing in the swamp. I've got lots of stuff without that, that was just the funniest part."

"...what other stuff?"

"Oh, all the stuff we did this summer."

"Can I see?"

"Alright..."

"...uh, okay, you can't tell her about the ghost in Idaho either."

"Aww?"

"Or anything at _all_ about dad digging up the corpse and burning it."

"What about salting?"

"Not that either. The stuff about driving all over is okay... playing with the puppies at Bobby's Junkyard is okay... talking about cartoons is okay... Uh. Wow. You were really paying attention to all the stuff Dad and Caleb said about werewolves, hunh."

"Yup. It was important."

"And making silver bullets too."

"Yep. I got how much real silverware it takes to make six bullets, and I got what Caleb said about alloys and how much silver needs to be in a bullet to make it work an' I got-"

"That's great, Sam... but you can't tell that to your teacher."

"But she asked us to write about anything we learned over the summer, and I learned a lot about werewolves and silver bullets."

"You still can't tell her about it."

"I hafta tell her something about what I learned about over the summer, Dean, or she's gonna think I'm stupid. An' what I learned about was werewo-"

"Nuh-uh. No way. You can't tell your teacher about Dad hunting werewolves and us making silver bullets."

"But it's the truth, Dean! Miss Pickett says it's important to always tell the truth."

"Not about the things we do, that's different. Sometimes you have to lie to protect people, and to keep them from locking you up for being nuts."

"I'm not gonna lie, Dean."

"Well, maybe you don't have to lie, really, just leave that part out."

"But I gotta tell her what I learned!"

"Sammy, you can't tell anybody about the stuff Dad does. Not even your teacher. She won't understand and she'll think you're crazy! And we'll all get in trouble."

"But Deeeean!"

"...What if you wrote it a different way?"

"Like what?"

"Like... 'I learned a lot about wildlife.'"

"But I didn't, I learned about werewolves!"

"Werewolves are wild, aren't they?"

"...Yeah, I guess. Sometimes."

"And they're alive-"

"Not once Daddy and Caleb got 'em."

"Alright, fine, but they _were_ alive, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah, so, they're 'wild' 'life'. Wildlife. So that's not a lie."

"...okay."

"Leave out all the details, and everything about making bullets, and just say you learned a lot about wildlife. Not lying, and you're still saying you learned about something."

"Alright."

"Okay, no werewolves, silver bullets, ghosts, swamp monsters..."

"But what do I write then? What's left?"

"Riding around in the car with Dad, learning about wildlife, playing with the puppies at Bobby's Junkyard, and that the Samurai Pizza Cats would kick the Ninja Turtles' butts."

"That's it? But that's boring!"

"Boring is exactly what you want for school."

"I still think you just don't want anyone to know a swamp monster stole your pants."

"Whatever."

- - -


	7. And Then There Was Cake

**Disclaimer:** No matter how hard I wish, they aren't mine. sigh  
**Summary:** The boys are tricky little twerps. Wee-Winchester sappyness. High sugar levels of all varieties.  
**A/N:** This is kind of an outtake from some other things I'm working on, because I figured this would be something the boys did as kids, being sneaky like they are, but the scene wouldn't shoehorn into either story no matter how much I wanted it to fit. So here it is, in conversation form.

_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**And Then There Was Cake**  
-  
_Timeframe:_  
In some small-town diner, early August 1989. Sam is 5, Dean is 10.  
-

"Okay Sammy, Dad's at the payphone now. He's got his Journal out so he's gonna be a while."

"Yay! It's my turn!"

"Nuh-uh, you had a turn last week."

"Did not. My last one was in Casa Grande, Arizona a loooong time ago, weeks 'n' weeks. I 'member 'cause the candle looked like a cactus."

"Nope, there was the place in Maine last week. They gave us pie."

"But I didn't like that pie. It was rhubarb! Blech!"

"Doesn't matter, that was still your turn. It's my turn now."

"But pie doesn't even count! It's gotta be cake!"

"Pie totally counts."

"Awww..."

"Nope. Not your turn."

"But Deeeeean-"

"You know, I remember last summer when you didn't even want to do this 'cause it's lying."

"But you told me it wasn't really lying, though."

"You mean when I said the people at diners like to sing to kids and give them free cake and that we wouldn't be around in January or May when it wasn't lying so we were giving them a chance to sing and give us cake in advance before we left town?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it is lying, really."

"Oh."

"Still want it to be your turn?"

"Hmmm... Yup. I'm okay with lying if it gets us cake."

"Hunh."

"Please Dean? Pleeeeease?"

"Why do you even care whether it's your turn or mine? It's not like we don't all share the cake."

"'Coz."

"'Coz why?"

"...'Coz I wanna blow the candle out. That's all."

"Nuh-uh. That's not it."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"It's 'coz you like it when they sing to you."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. You hum for miles afterward... You're blushing!"

"No 'm not."

"Sammy Winchester is bluuuuuushing. He likes it when total strangers sing to him in diners-"

"Dean, quit it! You're being mean!"

"... I'm sorry Sammy, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just teasing."

"It's not true anyways. I want it to be my turn 'coz I've got a wish I wanna make."

"Oh...? What wish?"

"It's a secret. If I tell you it won't come true."

"Well, since you're telling a lie to get the candle to wish on, it probably won't come true anyways."

"Oh. Really? Aw..."

"...but, hey, it might. I mean, who knows, all kinds of weird stuff happens. Either way keeping it a secret isn't going to make it come true, though, so you might as well tell me."

"...alright. I was gonna wish we could stay in one place for a whole year, and that Daddy would be happy."

"... Sammy..."

"He's grumpy all the time, Dean... Hey! Maybe it needs to be Daddy's turn!"

"Um. No."

"Why not? Daddy never has a turn."

"Uh...Dad probably doesn't want a turn."

"Why? Daddy doesn't mind. He eats the cake too."

"It's free food, 'course Dad doesn't mind. It's just... Dad doesn't mind as long as it's too late for him to stop us, and if we make it his turn, he'd want to stop us."

"Oh."

"It probably wouldn't work anyway, 'coz he's a grown-up. They probably wouldn't give him cake, they'd give him an extra big bowl of green beans or peas'n'carrots or something."

"Ew! That's worse than rhubarb!"

"Yeah. Besides, um, I _really_ don't think he'd be happy about the singing."

"Oh... Okay. But I'm still gonna make that wish, so it's still gotta be my turn."

"But you've had eight turns this summer and I've only had-"

"Pleeeeeease?"

"Okay, fine, whatever! Yeesh!"

"Yay!"

"Shh. Here comes the waitress... Um, 'scuse me, Ma'am? It's my little brother's birthday today."

"Hi! I'm five!"

- - -  
(...and then there was cake. Again. The end.) 


	8. The Effanineffable Secret

**Title:** The Effanineffable Secret

**Warnings: ** Um... None really. General second season spoilerishness.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, and I am on nothing.

**Summary:**What if John had told Dean an entirely different secret?

**A/N:**Short AU Crack Conversation for the LJ community spncrackfic REVERSAL Challenge. _Take your favourite angsty scene/episode from the series (anything, whether it's Devil's trap, In My Time of Dying or Born Under a Bad Sign) and make it cracktastic. _ While I wouldn't call this my favourite angsty scene, it's just begging for reversal. There's also a graphic for this lunacy (generated on one of those daft "make your own avatar" sites) over on my LJ, a link can be found on my author page here.

-  
_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty  
-  
**The Effanineffable Secret**  
-  
_Timeframe:_  
At the lake shore in the beginning of "Hunted". AU. Craaaaaaack.  
-

"Before Dad died he... he told me something. Something about you."

"What? Dean, what did he tell you."

"He said... He told me you're... you're..."

"What? Evil? Half-demon? Going to lead an army of hellspawn or something? What?!"

"He told me... you're a were-kitten, Sammy."

"I knew it! I knew I was destined to... wait a minute. A _what??_"

"A were-kitten. I couldn't believe it either."

"But... what? When?"

"I've been thinking about it since Dad told me, and I guess it must have been ever since you were nine."

"Since I was _nine?_ How?"

"That thing in your closet cursed you. See, I thought the kitten stuff was just a one-time curse, but I guess it stuck around."

"You've seen this happen?"

"Yeah, you were a kitten for most of a month afterward. Ginger tabby. Cute as hell. Dad did some ritual thing, though and I thought it was all over and done with a long time ago."

"Buh... But that makes no sense. I don't remember ever turning into a kitten, Dean! I would have noticed..."

"No, I wish it wasn't true, Sammy, but it is. Dad told me he's been secretly doing a transformation suppression ritual on you every month since you got cursed."

"...So, when he came to see me without me knowing at Stanford, he was-"

"-hanging in the ivy outside your window, burning catnip leaves and sacrificing a can of tuna. Or something."

"Or something?"

"Yeah. Dad didn't tell me the exact instructions for the ritual, just that it was in his journal."

"Dean, we've spent over a year going through Dad's journal looking for stuff and not once have we seen any kind of... were-kitten suppression ritual."

"Well, we weren't exactly looking for it were we?"

"Uh... Well, no."

"Anyway, we better figure it out quick, just in case you get an urge to, I dunno, sleep with a werewolf some day."

"What? Why would I do something like that?"

"I have no idea. C'mon. Finish your beer, we've gotta get you a litter box before nightfall."

- - -  
(that's all)


	9. When I'm Blue

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine. I have lots and lots of nothing.  
**Summary:** Written for LJ Comm **spnthurnights** Drabble Prompt from **starrylizard**: Sam and Dean go to a fan convention, cursed fan item, auction.  
**A/N:** And part of my sordid trekkie past becomes useful... harkening back to the fan-run cons of the mid-nineties here. The crack factor is a given. This was my first response to the prompt, but I wasn't sure if it was too cracky or not...

_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**When I'm Blue**  
-  
_Timeframe:_  
During Season 1 in some crack-verse that never, ever happened.  
-

"I can't believe you'd drink anything that color, Dean. It was blue. It looked like windshield washer fluid."

"Blue'sh a nice color. I like blue."

"Good. Glad you like it. Bobby says you'll _be_ blue for at least a week, Jumbo Smurf."

"Aw, man... Hey, whabbout th'green chick, at that auction? Whaddid she drink?"

"Nothing. That was body paint, she was in an 'Orion slave girl' costume or something."

"She danced niiiice. I woulda bid on her. Was for charity 'n ev'rything."

"The 'Orion Syndicate' didn't take Visa, Dean, though they seemed to take bids in gummy bears..."

"Heh. Gummy bearsh. Guuuummmy bears..."

"Exactly _how_ much of that stuff did you drink?"

"Dunno, three, four bottles."

"_Bottles?!_ Those wine jugs?" 

"Yup."

"You drank a _gallon_ of it?"

"Hadda shave the geek-boysh n'green chicksh, Sh-Sammy."

"So instead of being rational and dumping it all down the drain, you _drank_ all the cursed Romulan Ale at the Star Trek Convention?"

"Hell yeah! Tasted like popshicles!"

"Great. Enjoy your week as a giant Smurf, Dean."

"'M an _Andorian_, Shammy. See? Got antennash."

"Dude, don't point your antennas at me! It's creepy."

"Yer just jealous 'coz I got antennash an' you don't. You got antenenenna envy."

"Whatever. At least I'm not blue."

- - -

Post A/N: As to why cursed Romulan Ale would turn someone into an Andorian, you'd have to ask the Trickster who made it.


	10. Five AM, St Louis Time

**Summary:** Getting Dean out of bed at 5 am. Missing scene from 1.06  
**Warnings:** Conversation. Kinda silly.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own them.  
**A/N:** I've had bits of this for a while, but never got around to posting it until now.

_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**Five AM, St. Louis Time**

_Timeframe:_  
Missing scene from 'Skin'  
-

"Dean."

"Grrmfl."

"Hey, Dean. Wake up."

"Gn- Whassup? We leavin' town now?"

"Not yet."

"Five-oh?"

"No, no cops. I-

"Whassa fi- 'mergency?"

"I want to go back to the crime scene, take another look around."

"... Timezit?"

"Uh... Heh. Quarter to five?"

"'n the _morning?_"

"Uh, yeah. I was just thinking and-"

"Gnuuurgh."

"Come on, get up."

"'S not an 'mergency, Sam. Fuggoff."

"But I really think we should go and-"

"Yer not gonna lemme sleep, are you?"

"No."

"God. What in hell turned you into a morning person and when can I shoot it?"

"...uh... in Stanford... me and Jess used to..."

"Yeah, okay, never mind."

"These are my friends."

"...Toss my bag over here."

"Thanks, Dean. I want to go and-"

"Nuh uh."

"But, I thought you-"

"Coffee."

"What?"

"It is too damn early for me to translate from geek-boy without caffeine."

"But I just-"

"Before explanation, coffee."

"But-"

"Coff. Eeeeeeee. Sam. Coffee."

"It's-"

"Now."

"Can't I just explain wh-"

"No, Sam. Coffee now, thinking later."

"You don't need to think, it's really-"

"Every time you open your frigging mouth I need to think, Sam. Coffee."

"Bu-"

"The only words I'm gonna hear when you say them is 'Here's your coffee, Dean'. Everything else you say right now? Is like, like whats-her-name. Charlie Brown's teacher."

"C'mon Dean, I just wanted-"

"'Wahnwahn wahn, wahn wahn wahnwahn.' See? Charlie Brown's teacher. Coffee'll fix that right up."

"You're seriously six years old, you know that?"

"'Wahn wah-'"

"Okay! Whatever! I'll get you a coffee!"

"Excellent. We'll stop and get one on the way there."

"I thought you wanted coffee _now?_ There's a vending machine down the-"

"Dude. Coffee from a vending machine? Comes out the same pipes as the chicken soup."

"Right. Yeah, okay."

"Not to mention it was never really coffee to begin with."

"Point."

"You will get me a _real_ coffee. And not that frigging vanilla hazelnut frou-frou crap either."

"That was _once_, Dean! Once! Weeks ago!"

"Traumatize a man first thing in the morning. Scarred me for life with that crap. Go to take a sip of coffee and get a mouthful of hot liquid air freshener."

"Fine! Real coffee."

"Yes. Real coffee. Which I will then drink, and which will start to enter my bloodstream about the time we get to your buddy's place."

"Okay, Dean."

"And _then_ and _only_ then, will I hear why the hell you found it necessary to drag me out of bed at five in the morning to look at a place we already looked at."

- - -  
(that's it) 


	11. Always Ready to Travel

**Warnings:** Crack. Conversation. Crossover. Utter nonsense.  
**Disclaimer:** I disavow all ownership of anything appearing in this conversation.  
**Summary:** ...I have no explanation for this. It's crack. And a kind of crossover.  
**A/N:** One thing a fever is useful for, is writing really bizarre crack.

_-  
Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**Always Ready to Travel**

_Timeframe:_  
Well, it would be sometime during Season 1, except it never, ever, _ever_ happened.  
-

"Hey, Dean?"

"Can't a man finish one beer in peace, Sam? One?"

"You were already on number three before I even left the bar De- never mind. Where are the guns?"

"In the trunk, where they always are."

"That's what I thought, I was gonna bring the bag into the room but I'm looking in the trunk right now and I'm not seeing any guns..."

"What?"

"No salt, lighter fuel, knives, charms, dreamcatcher, pointy sticks... nothing."

"Aw man! No way! If someone busted into my car I'm gonna kill the sonofabitch!"

"I don't think anyone broke in, Dean. The usual stuff isn't here but there's uh... other stuff instead."

"Whaddaya mean, other stuff?"

"There's... clothes, and some, uh, underwear that smells like flowers, and a couple bottles of... looks like wine, maybe?"

"... I don't suppose there's any chance you got the wrong car?"

"Big black gas-hog with a secret compartment instead of a spare tire, parked in front of our hotel room? The same one I drove to the hotel room from the bar you're sitting in? Naw, I'm pretty sure it's the right car."

"What the hell then... did we annoy some brownies?"

"Not that I can recall, but hey there's brownies in here too. The edible kind."

"Sam, don't eat 'em."

"Yeah, no problem."

"Check it out with the EMF?"

"EMF's not here either."

"Aw hell! Okay, look, stay right there, I'm coming back, I'll be about fifteen minutes on foot. Watch the car, see if there's anything lurking around to see how their little joke is playing out."

"Whoa."

"Whoa what? What's wrong?"

"Uh. There's a bag here full of... uh... gold coins."

"Gold coins? Like those Canadian loonie things?"

"I don't think so. Looks like real gold."

"Faerie gold maybe. Don't touch that either."

"Kinda too late, Dean."

"Crap. You're too damn curious for your own good, you know that, Sam?"

"I think these might actually be gold. They're kind of rough-looking, like they were made using an older minting process, maybe ancient Roman or... Trying to make out the writing here..."

"Don't read it out loud-"

"-First Bank of Ahnk-Morpork."

"Where the hell's Ahnk-Morpork? _What_ the hell's Ahnk-Morpork and what's it doing in the trunk of my car!?"

"Don't know, but uh, if this is actually gold, there's about ten pounds of it here."

"Probably not gold then. God, this is stupid. Look just- just stop pawing around the weird crap, close the trunk and I'll be there as fast as I can. I need to see what the hell's wrong with my car."

"Alright, I- Holy crap!"

"What?"

"The... Uh..."

"_What?_ What's wrong now!?"

"Uh... Dean? Since when has the car had _feet?_"

"...Feet."

"Heh. Um. Yeah. Hundreds and hundreds of little feet."

"...You ate the brownies didn't you?"

"I didn't touch the brownies, I only had one beer and the Impala has _feet_, Dean!"

"Okay, okay, calm down."

"I'm calm!"

"No, you're not. You're hallucinating."

"I'm not hallucinating! The car has feet! Ow! Dammit!"

"What?"

"Your car kicked me!"

"Oh, so it's _my_ car when it's kicking you, but when you want to drive-"

"Dean! _The_ car has _feet_. It _kicked_ me."

"That's impossible, Sammy, just take a deep breath-"

"We deal with impossible things every day, Dean."

"I know, I know. Just take a deep breath, find a weapon and see if it's something _underneath_ the car that has all the feet."

"Alright. Okay. Good point. Uh... ha! Okay, got a stick."

"Good. A stick. Great."

"Well, the guns have kind of disappeared, so I don't have many opt- Whoa."

"What happened?"

"I poked the legs and... the car kind of... rotated."

"Rotated."

"Did a one-eighty. Turned right around. While parked."

"...That sounds pretty awesome actually."

"It's not awesome, Dean! It's absolutely _wrong!_ You didn't see all the feet, stamping and undulating like, like- Hey!"

"What?"

"Some guy in a red bathrobe just appeared."

"Crap. One of the people staying at the hotel?"

"No, _appeared_, like 'puff of smoke' appeared."

"...What?"

"Hee- he's uh... wearing a pointy hat with the word 'WIZZARD' on it. Hey! You!"

"Wizard?"

"With two 'Z's'. In sparkles. Hey! You in the pointy hat!"

"What the hell, Sam? ...Sam? ...Sammy?!"

"Uh... It's okay now, Dean..."

"What's okay?"

"Everything. The guy in the bathrobe and pointy hat said something about getting the Impala mixed up with his, uh... luggage and he... I don't know. There was this sort of greenish yellowish purplish flash and it's, uh... It's all back to normal now."

"It's all... Dude, you _suck._"

"What?"

"This has been the _stupidest_ prank call ever, Sam. I'm going back to the bar."

"It wasn't a prank, Dean! The car- it had- there was... I'm gonna have bruises on my shins where it kicked me!!"

"Sammy..."

"I swear, Dean! I wasn't hallucinating!"

"...The car has wheels now?"

"Um. Yeah."

"The stuff that's supposed to be in the trunk is in the trunk?"

"Hang on, I'll check... Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be right there, Sam. Hang tight. Lock up the car, get in the room and lock the door. We'll get some coffee or something into you, get your head on straight."

"It wasn't a hallucinat-"

"It's alright Sammy, it's alright. I believe you. The car had feet and the trunk was full of gold from Mu Shu Pork."

"Ahnk-Morpork!"

"Whatever. Look, it's been a long day. Let's call it a night and get some shut-eye."

"It kicked me in the shins!"

"I'll put a band-aid on that too."

"Bu-"

"Get in the room, lock the door, I'll be there in a couple minutes. I'll do a quick check, make sure the car has wheels and tell it not kick you again, okay?"

"...Okay."

"Unless you're being a jerk. Then it can kick you all it wants."

"Dean!"

-

(that is it. that is all. there ain't no more.)

_**Post A/N:**_ For those who don't read Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels and as a result might be completely confused, there is a description of "The Luggage" on Wikipedia.


	12. Parsimonious

**Warnings:** SPOILERS FOR 4.04 Conversation-style. Drunkenness and possible blasphemy.  
**Disclaimer:** Oooo, I definitely don't own them.  
**A/N:** Okay, this started out as funny, and then went... freaky. Do I think Sam is really thinking like this? I hope not, and if he was, I doubt he'd ever say it to Dean. But that's where the bunny went, so I chased it. O.O

* * *

_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty**  
**

**Parsimonious**

* * *

_Timeframe:_  
Shortly after Metamorphosis (4.04) sometime.

"Hello?"

"Heeeeeeey! Deeeeeeeeeeean!"

"...Sam?"

"Thash me!"

"Sam, where the hell are you?"

"Mythbushters."

"...is that the bar you're at?"

"'S a TV show, Dean. Tests 'n' stuff."

"I know it's a TV show, moron. They blow crap up."

"'S scientiffical 'n all."

"But you're not on Mythbusters, right?"

"Nuh. M'doin' it freelance."

"...You're blowing things up?"

"M'testin' a whatsis. Adage."

"You're drunk, Sam. Where are you?"

"'S not the right question, Dean. Gotta ask "Wha's th' adage?""

"Okay, fine. What's the 'adage'?"

"Adage I been testing's th'one that says, "You can't cry when you're drinking something." Feel like crying, drink something, anything you want, don't cry. Yup."

"Uh hunh. So you're drunk in a bar somewhere crying."

"Not crying. _Drinking._ Adage works great. 'S _confirmed._ Woo!"

"What bar are you at Sam?"

"Wanna know why I'm testin' it, Dean?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

"'Cause _God hates me._"

"Sam-"

"Nope. God hates me. You said. Yer angel wants to smack me."

"He wants you to stop being a frigging _idiot_, Sam! And God just wants you to stop what you're doing, I never said He hates you!"

"Yup. He hates me so mush, sooooooo much, He sent an _angel_ to get my brother out of Hell."

"That's ridiculous. If God, or angels, or whatever, if any of them _hated_ you, they'd, I dunno, fire a lightning bolt at you or blight your crops or something."

"Noooo, nuh uh. There's a word. Parshl- Parzmn- Persimonyoo- Parsimonious."

"...Parsimonious? Is that the word? Or are you still working on it?"

"Nuh. Parsimoooonious. Means God don't smack you himself, he brings your brother back from Hell to do it for him."

"Listen, Sam, I-"

"I tell you what, Dean. I tell you what. You can beat the _crap_ outta me if you want. Or if yer angel says to. Or if God says to. Don't care."

"I'm not gonna beat the crap out of you, Sam! Just-"

"Don't care. Beat me up. Any time. It's still worth it. Worth ev'ry secon'."

"...Sam..."

"'Cause I got it figured out now. If what I was doing, if tryin' to use this demon psychic crap for good was soooo bad that God hates me, and had you brought back from Hell to smack me around 'cause of it? S'all worth it. Alla the headaches an' Ruby an' everything. Do it again any day."

"Do it again? Do _not_ tell me you're getting evil bitch lessons from Ruby again!?"

"No, no, no!"

"Well, good."

"Not _now._"

"What? Sam, if-"

"Yer not in Hell, see? But if you die? If you go 'way again, Dean? I can make God hate me again. Really, really hate me. And then He'll bring you back!"

"...Sam, you- you can't... You're drunk. You aren't making sense. That's crazy."

"'S awesome. 'S _perfect_. You'll never ever die forever, Dean! 'Cause I can _make_ God bring you back!"

"Sam, okay, Sam, just- just shut the hell up, alright!? You're drunk, and, and you are _seriously_ frigging nuts. God doesn't- I don't even- Look, I'm coming to pick you up. Where are you?"

"Some bar. Uhhhh... dunno whash called. Big fish onna wall. Hey, you there, guy? Where am I? ... 'S the Carp Hole. Hey, thas cute! Carp Hole. Haha!"

"Okay, I'll find it. Do not go anywhere, you hear me?"

"Yep! Hear ya! 'S great to hear ya, Dean!"

"I'll be right there. We'll get you back to the hotel to sleep it off and you'll forget all about _all_ this crap in the morning."

"Hey! Hey, know what this means, Dean?"

"That you need to get your puking over and done with before you set foot in my car?"

"God made your angel bring you back 'cause of me 'n my psychic crap. So I _did_ getcha outta Hell after all! Ha!"

"Sam... just... go puke, Sam."

"Okay!" _click_

"..._dammit_ Sam..."

* * *

(thash all hic)

**Post A/N:** The original impetus of this, the "can't cry if you are drinking something" adage, may not be as well-known as I thought it would be. I couldn't locate a reference or quote on Google. Nor could I find the definition I'm thinking of for parsimonious. I fail at Google today. :-P


	13. Research is its Own Reward

**Warnings:** Inaccurate depictions of the exciting and enthralling field of genealogical research. Conversation format.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just playing.  
**A****/N:** In honor of me being stuck at work doing stupefyingly boring data-entry crap until at least midnight. And possibly tomorrow. Which would be Sunday. *headdesk*

_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**Research is its Own Reward**

_Timeframe:_  
Sometime during mid-Season one, some random unaired case.  
-

"This is the most goddamn boring thing we've ever done, Sam."

"It's not boring, it's... Well... Okay, yeah it's boring. But it's for a case."

"How? How is us sitting here, getting eyestrain looking at three-hundred years of old census and county birth records going to help the case?"

"Caleb thinks the curse is probably following a bloodline, so we need to trace the victims back to a common ancestor."

"Can't we just Google this crap?"

"I already tried the genealogy sites. They're mostly user-generated, and no one's really looking in-depth into these people's ancestors but us."

"Great. We've been at this for _days_, Sam. When are we gonna get to _shoot_ something?"

"Dean-"

"I mean, I'm all for research and crap, as long as it ends in some good cathartic shooting."

"Cathartic, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

_"Cathartic?"_

"What? It's a word. I use them once in a while. You should try listening, you might learn something."

"Whatever."

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What do we do about stuff like this. 'Mother: Mathilda Ann Grimesby - Father: Thomas. Farm Worker'"

"Great. Another one. Just make a note."

"What, like 'Robert Grimesby, product of Mathilda and a random roll in the hay?'"

"Dean-"

"Adventurous girl for the seventeen hundreds, this Mathilda. I bet she wore a bustle."

"What?"

"...Hm? Sorry, distracted, you were saying something?"

"Not really. It's just frustrating to hit another dead end. There's a lot of them."

"...Like, how many 'a lot'?"

"What?"

"Like maybe-all-of-them 'a lot'?"

"... Actually... Hey, yeah. I just thought Tom was a really common name, but all the victims have an unknown ancestor with the first name of Tom or Thomas, showing up between 1722 and 1735."

"Heh. Thomas, you sly dog."

"Dean! Do you know what this means?"

"It means we can go shoot something now?"

"No! It means we have a connection!"

"Which means shooting. Or burning? I can get behind burning too."

"No, it means we need to go through all the area census records for 1720 to 1740, find everywhere this Thomas guy turned up and trace all those families forward to today! We can find out who might be the next victim, Dean!"

"...Great. You do that, Sam."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go shoot something. Then maybe set something on fire. Then drink a beer or five."

"Come on, Dean! We're finally making progress!"

"Yes, progress. Progress requires beer and shooting."

"But Dean-!"

"Right. And burning. Can't forget the burning."

"You gotta help me with this! The next victim's due to fall victim to the curse this weekend!"

"...okay, fine. I'll multitask and do the drinking, shooting and burning at the same time."

"Dean-"

"But only for the sake of the research, you understand! I promise I won't enjoy it at all."

- - -  
(that's it)


	14. Recommended Daily Intake

**Warnings:** The assertions in this ficlet are not recommended by the Dietary Association of anywhere.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just playing.  
**Summary:** Sam and Dean discuss culinary definitions.

-  
_Conversations_  
by CaffieneKitty

**Recommended Daily Intake**

_Timeframe:_  
Sometime during early Season one, probably.  
-

"You need to eat more vegetables, Dean."

"Hey, I eat vegetables! I'm eating one right now!"

"...Dean, that's _pie_."

"Yeah!"

"Pie is not a vegetable."

"Is too! See! Pumpkin pie! Pumpkin is totally a vegetable."

"It's a fruit."

"Pumpkins are not fruit."

"When you eat the whole plant it's a vegetable. When you eat the plant's seed pods it's a fruit."

"...Is this like that tomato thing when you were eight?"

"Yeah."

"But you admitted a tomato was a vegetable then."

"You were sitting on my _chest_, Dean."

"Doesn't matter. A tomato's a vegetable, and so is a pumpkin."

"They're fruits."

"Vegetables."

"Okay, fine. Vegetable _matter_. But that does _not_ make pie a vegetable."

"This pie is made from a vegetable. Therefore, it _is_ a vegetable."

"Ketchup is made from tomatoes and it's not a vegetable. Or a fruit."

"Totally is."

"It's a _condiment!_"

"Still a vegetable. Ketchup is an even better vegetable than plain tomatoes."

"What? Why?"

"It's concentrated. I bet about a hundred tomatoes go into making a bottle of ketchup."

"...okay, you're probably right about the tomatoes, but that still doesn't make ketchup, or that pie, a vegetable!"

"What part of 'it's made of vegetables' don't you get, Sammy?"

"It's not though! It's got sugar and crust and whipped cream!"

"And vegetables. The rest is a garnish."

"Crust is a garnish?

"Structural element. Does not in anyway count against pie being a vegetable."

"What about whipped cream? You can hardly see the pie under all the whipped cream, Dean, how is that a garnish?"

"That? Is a protective insulating covering.

"Protective covering."

"Keeps the vegetable at the right temperature and protected from the elements."

"Really."

"Plus, it's dairy. Calcium. Good for the bones and crap."

"...You know what, Dean, never mind. Pie is a vegetable. Go nuts."

- - -  
(that's it)


	15. So You think You Can Hunt

**Disclaimer:** Not mine  
**A/N:** Utterly random and really really short. Because god only knows why but I wound up watching "So You Think You Can Dance" today. Anyone who knows me will tell you this is obviously a sign of mind-control or other evil powers in action.

-

**So You Think You Can Hunt**  
by CaffieneKitty

-

_Timeline: Season 3 Post-Mystery-Spot sometime I guess._

_-  
_

"What? Which one?"

"Her."

"'Hot tamale train' chick?"

"Yeah."

"So you think a national TV personality's a banshee?"

"Not a _full_ banshee obviously or there'd be piles of corpses, but that screaming's unnatural."

"You wanna check her out?"

"To be safe."

"She's on TV, dude. How would we get close enough to her?"

"The show has public tryouts, Dean."

"...wait. You're not seriously suggesting we try out-"

"Why not? We don't _need_ to dance well. Remember the guy with the fedora?"

"No. Okay? Just no."

"But Dean-"

"No, Sam. I'm not making a frigging ass of myself for a vaguely hinted possible-maybe-banshee that isn't killing anyone!"

"You could do 'Heat of the Moment'"

"... No."

- - -  
(That's all there is. Like I said, short.)

Post A/N: Because I know people will ask, I used the Asia song because 'Eye of the Tiger' is Jensen. 'Heat of the Moment' is Dean.


	16. Make a Statement Without Saying a Word

**Rating/Warning:** GEN, PG, CONVERSATION. Crack.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Title is from the advertising slogan of Exclamation perfume, which I also do not own and towards whom I bear no ill-will.  
**A/N:** I have no idea. At all. o.O

-.-

**Make a Statement Without Saying a Word**  
by CaffieneKitty

_Timeline: Right after... I dunno, Family Remains. Sure. Why not. *handwaves*_

-.-

"Smell me."

"God no!"

"No, seriously, smell me."

"Dude. You're a _sick_ individual. And stupid if you think I'm getting my nose within five feet of you."

"Dean... Seriously. This is weird."

"When did you last eat a burrito?"

"What? Tuesday. Come on. I need you to tell me what I smell like so I can see if I'm having an olfactory hallucination."

"...Come again?"

"Just smell me!"

"Okay, fine, but if you fart I swear I'm gonna punch you in the face."

"Fine."

"... okay, now I almost wish you had farted."

"What do I smell like?"

"Like that cheap-ass cologne from- god, it's burning through my brain."

"From when?"

"I dunno, you were a kid. Some school dance thing. You found a bottle cheap somewhere and practically bathed in the crap before the dance. We ended up using the rest to torch corpses that summer."

"'Tempestuous Ocean Musk.'"

"Yeah, that's the crap. Rotten flowers and seaweed that something peed on. Where did you find it and why did you put it on instead of setting it on fire?"

"I didn't. I woke up this morning and this is what I smelled like."

"Did you roll in something in your sleep?"

"No. I've showered three times, Dean. I still smell like this stuff and the last time I wore any I was fourteen. What the hell?"

"That's really weird."

"Did you think I'd've asked you to smell me if it wasn't weird?"

"Okay. Okay. Do smells have ghosts?"

"What? No... Although sometimes ghosts are associated with smells..."

"Anyone die at that school dance?"

"Only socially."

"What?"

"No, Dean, no one died."

"Okay... Hey, I got an idea."

"Great, what _splacgh!_"

"There! Look!"

"What the-! Holy water?"

"See! You're smoking! You're, I dunno, possessed by some kind of minor stink-demon."

"...what? But the tattoo-"

"Only works if the demon tries to get inside you. This is possessing your surface."

"What!"

"I guess?"

"How does that even work, Dean?"

"I dunno. It's possessing your pores?"

"Seriously?"

"Hey, there was smoke from the holy water and I don't hear any screaming, so... whatever. Makes as much sense as being haunted by the stinkiest cologne in the world."

"Fine. My pores are possessed by a minor stink-demon. What now?"

"Easy enough to fix! You stay there and don't touch anything, I'll go bless the bathtub."

"Great. Wonderful."

"Too bad it wasn't a full-on possession, because it would be fantastic if we could cure your burrito problem with a holy water bath."

"Just shut up and bless the bathtub."

- - -  
(That's it. Like I said, I have _no idea_.)


	17. Scenic Outlook

**Rating/Warning:** GEN, PG, CONVERSATION. Potty humor?  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**A/N:** Found this random thing mostly done from ages ago and finished it off.  
**Summary:**Aren't siblings wonderful?

-.-  
**Scenic Outlook**  
by CaffieneKitty

_Timeline: Season Two-ish_  
-.-

"Chain drinking is not a good sign, Dean."

"What? It's coffee. Straight coffee, no booze."

"Doesn't matter, you're going to explode."

"Naaaah. I'm fine."

"Seriously. Explode or need a catheter."

"Dude, nature's pit stop is only a brake pedal away."

"What about when you can't pull over?"

"Unlike some people in this car with anal-retentive curb alignment issues, I can always pull over."

"Really? What about right now? Mountain on one side, cliff on the other? Blind corners and a two lane road?"

"That's why they build 'scenic outlooks', Sammy."

"Like the one we passed about ten miles back?"

"Yep. Glen Echo Ravine. World's most picturesque urinal."

"You know, we've passed four or five of those outlooks without stopping, Dean."

"So?"

"Just saying. Three extra large coffees. And a bottle of Coke."

"I repeat, so?"

"Nothing, nothing. ...Hey, there must be some great waterfalls around here!"

"Don't."

"Don't what? Talk about waterfalls? What's wrong with discussing the epic majesty of gushing water, flowing freely-"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Fine, no waterfalls."

"Fine."

"... Hey did you see what they had in the town square in the place we just left?"

"Too busy fending off the ghosts of the town founders in the basement of city hall to do any sightseeing."

"Too bad, you really missed out."

"What?"

"...Nah, you don't want to hear about it."

"No, what?"

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. There was this fountain-"

"Dammit Sam!"

"Ran all day and all night long, shooting jets of water in every direction-"

"Sam, quit it!"

"-and no matter where you went downtown-"

"I mean it! I will hurt you!"

"-you could hear the constant whsssssssssssssshh-"

"Sam!"

"Oh look, Dean, 'Scenic Outlook, one mile'!"

"...You knew that was coming up."

"Yep, I did, because I am an awesome brother who reads the road signs."

"When we pull over, I am _so_going to kick your ass."

"Better pee first."

- - -  
(that's all)


	18. A Sartorial Challenge

**Rating/Warning:** GEN, PG, CONVERSATION. Random.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**A/N:** All **blackcat333_99**'s fault.

-.-

**A Sartorial Challenge**  
by CaffieneKitty

_Timeline: Sometime in early to mid Season 1_

_-.-_

"It's a shirt, Sam. Who cares if it's plaid or stripes?"

"People who don't want to look like a lumberjack care."

"Plaid's cheaper."

"No, they aren't. The packaged shirts are all the same price, plaid and striped and solid."

"_Packaged_shirts? Dude. You want to go gear up at a Banana Republic, you can do it on your own dime. Way better value from second hand stores. Who's gonna pay twenty bucks for stripes when you can get plaid for a buck?"

"I would."

"College dork."

"Whatever. Look. What about FBI gigs? Have you ever seen a suit with a plaid shirt?"

"No, Sam, that's why there are separate shirts to go with the suit gigs."

"So stripes for suits, plaid for everything else?"

"Nope. Not so cheap for suits, cheap as dirt for everything else."

"But what about plaid?"

"Used plaid is cheap and plentiful, particularly on the west coast. Also tears better for bandaging and is usually more absorbent. You know what our clothes go through on a hunt, Sam. A packaged shirt would run screaming for the nearest dry cleaner."

"...run screaming? Really?"

"You know what I mean. Those packaged shirts are designed for people sitting around in offices. Not hunters."

"Plaid shirts aren't exactly designed for hunting either, Dean. Not our kind of hunting."

"You said it before, Sam. Lumberjacks."

"...what?"

"Plaid shirts - the real kind, not the preppy kind - are designed for lumberjacks."

"How are lumberjacks anything like our kind of hunters?"

"C'mon, Sammy! Thrashing around in the woods with a chainsaw? Maybe getting chased by a bear? Close enough to hunting to count."

"...I think your view of the forest industry is a little distorted, Dean."

"Woods. Chainsaws. Bears. My case is freaking _rested._"

"Fine. Can we at least stop at a Starbucks for a coffee while we're in Washington State?"

"I keep telling you Sam, they don't sell coffee at Starbucks. They sell froo-froo flavored water for twice the price of a loaf of-"

"Never mind!"

- . - . -  
(that's it.)


End file.
